


how not to plan your own wedding

by quinziggle



Series: Romeo, Romeo (Get The Hell Out Of My Garden, Romeo) [3]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gabe is chaotic even in very limited passing, I wrote this very quickly so I apologise, Idiots in Love, Other, domestic snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 20:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14528412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinziggle/pseuds/quinziggle
Summary: my brain is too wild at the moment to write properly but tiny ficlets are absolutely fine. let me know if you guys actually enjoy this sort of 'short burst' writing. wrote this to cheer up a buddy, hope it does xoxo





	how not to plan your own wedding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PatrickStumpInDanceDanceVideo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatrickStumpInDanceDanceVideo/gifts).



From his carefully selected position of optimum comfort, also known as his fiancé's crotch, Frank broke the comfortable silence with his third unhelpful comment in thirty minutes. "Gee..."   
Just like the other two times, the only response he received was a muffled grunt. This didn't deter him, of course. "Babydoll..." Nothing. "Sweetpea..." Silence. "Sugarnipples..." There was an indignant laugh, quickly disguised as a cough. Frank took this as a cue to continue. "Can Gabe be my maid of honour?" 

Gerard rolled over, dislodging Frank from his optimum comfort position, and stealing the duvet as they went. "No."   
"Why not?" He wheedled. "You're having Mikey as yours."  
"I'm the bride, you dickfuck. Only the bride gets a maid of honour, you only get a best man."   
Sighing in faux defeat, Frank wriggled his way up to the pillows and threw one leg over Gerard's cocooned form. "Gabe's not really best man material though... He's more of a pageboy.  
Do you think Lindsey will be my best man?"   
The only response from inside the constellation print covers was a grumble of something that might have been, "It's too early, let me sleep" or "She's a furry, get me a jeep". For entertainment purposes, Frank decided to hear the latter. "Lindsey's a furry?! Do you think she'll wear her suit to the service?"   
Gerard's bedraggled head shot out of the duvet like a whack a mole; Frank wished he had been filming because if vine weren't dead, he'd be a superstar. "Where the fuck did you pull that from?" They said, struggling not to laugh. "Lindsey's definitely not a furry."   
"But if she was?"  
"Hm?" Gerard turned to face their fiancé, smiling softly. They looked ethereal in the soft morning light. Undeterred by their beauty, Frank went on.   
"What animal would she be?"  
Gerard wrinkled their nose, confused. It was adorable. "I don't know, babe, maybe a snake?"  
"...Harsh..."  
"Snakes are groovy!"   
"Stop."  
"Groovy."  
"Nuh-uh."   
Inching closer, Gerard pressed their noses together, pecking the idiot man they were planning to marry gently on the corner of the mouth. "Groovy is the best word, and I will hear no slander against it," They traced their tongue against the seam of Frank's mouth, circling the lip ring gently. "Also I want the word groovy on our wedding invites," Frank leaned eagerly in to kiss them back, "And I'm telling Lindsey-- mm -- that you thought she was a furry." And with one final lingering smoocheroo, Gerard rolled out of bed and strutted out of the room, probably to call Lindsey.   
"Shit."


End file.
